


Shadows and Hounds

by Starlight_dreaming



Series: Assassination Classroom: Gen II [2]
Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-02 01:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17255450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starlight_dreaming/pseuds/Starlight_dreaming
Summary: Irina looked up, and spotted him.The sniper.He stood on barrier on the other side of the train tracks. A mere silhouette against the moonlight. Irina saw him lower the sniper rifle in his hands. The train rushed pass, but just before it did, she caught a glimpse of his face as the train's headlights illuminated him and his surroundings.It washim.A/N Sequel to Rising





	1. Prologue: Ryoken

The boy gritted his teeth, his lips curled back in a vicious snarl. The sound of gunfire was ear shattering.

"Focus Ryoken!" Someone behind the glass was shouting as they open fired. 

They called him Ryoken. 

Ryoken. 

Ryoken.

Ryoken. 

Hound. 

He was nothing more than their hound, jabbed with needles all day everyday. 

"Focus Ryoken!" 

So he did. 

He moved and time seemed to slow down. He saw the gleam of every bullet at they reflected the bright lights overhead, racing for his heart and aiming to kill. He simply stepping out of the way and batting them aside with a finger. 

But then time sped up, too fast, too soon. No matter what he did, time always caught up. A bullet speared straight through his shoulder and another through his right leg. He felt the ground slamming into his back, knocking the wind right out of him. He didn't realize he was screaming until his throat felt raw. 

Dimly he heard someone shouting for cease fire and his screams turned into uncontrollable laughter. He ignored the men and woman calling his name, safely behind their reinforce glass. 

He hated them. He hated them so much that some days it was all he could think of with whatever remains of his drug addled brain. He wanted to break their necks and rip their spines from their backs. 

He wanted to kill. 

Anyone. 

Everyone.

_But you can't_ , something whispered at the back of his mind, _not yet, not now._

So he laid on the ground and continued to laugh even as blood slipped down from his wounds and the coners of his lips, staining the pristine white tiles a beautiful shade of crimson. 

* * *

"Ryoken! Ryoken!" 

The calls from his fellow scientist fell to deaf ears. It was useless. At this point, the boy was too far gone. Hirayama stepped away from the glass, "How fast was that?" He asked glancing at the young scientist beside him. 

"Mach 15, sir," his assistant replied. Hirayama clenched his jaw, "He's still too slow," he said, "Get his speed up to Mach 23. That was the original target." 

"But sir, the fact that any human can move that fast is a miracle itself!" The man protested, "Any faster would put too much strain on his cerebellum." 

Hirayama glanced at the eleven-year-old boy in the testing room, laughing his head off as he laid in a pool of his own blood. Completely ignoring all his colleagues as they attempted again and again to get some form of rational response out of him. His assistant was right about one thing. 

What good was a weapon with a broken mind?

Hirayama eyed the boy. His blood had stained his white clothes red and his pale blond hair was dyed a dark crimson. His small frame was trembling with maniacal laughter. 

Ryoken's speed was a scientific breakthrough itself, but the boy couldn't keep it up for more than half minute. So far he had shown little else but speed. He did heal a degree faster than any normal human, but too slowly for it to count as actual regeneration. Any other inhuman attributes that he should have manifested were basically nonexistent.

"The gene should have given him regeneration along with speed," Hirayama said, more to himself the man beside him, "Not to mention energy manipulation, camouflage and actual antimatter tentacles." 

"We don't quite understand what is going on, sir," his assistant said, "He has the DNA sequence for regeneration but for some unknown reason they are remaining dormant. As for the tentacles..." the man trailed off and shook his head, "The most recent round of tests confirms that he simply does not have the right DNA sequence to generate them naturally." 

Yet another failure. Hirayama took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. 

Out of the twenty other candidates Ryoken was the only one that showed any promise at all. They still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps it was because he had been admitted into the program much younger than most of the others. But then again two others his age showed no signs of any inhuman abilities.

Maybe it was simply because Ryoken was strong. He had always been strong, both mentally and physically. Young as he was he was stronger than most, as expected from his genetic background. 

"Of course, we could always implant the tentacles, like how Yasunori-san suggest-" 

"No," Hirayama said, cutting the man off mid sentence and dismissing the suggestion entirely, "We know exactly how that turned out." 

His young nephew was a fool, absolutely brilliant, but foolish. The last thing they needed right now was another idiot to repeat Yanagisawa's mistakes. What they needed was to focus more on Ryoken. His nephew disagreed and that was the main reason for their constant clashes. 

Hirayama shook his head. He didn't have time to worry about the idiot boy, he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. "We need to find a way to awaken Ryoken's regeneration gene. That should stabilize his mind and give him the additional speed he lacks." 

"We don't exactly know how to, sir," the man pointed out. 

"Well then find a way," Hirayama snapped impatiently. "Ryoken is our best hope of success." He paused, "I think," he said, "It's time we divert all our resources on him." 

His assistant's eyebrows shot up, "And the other candidates?" 

Hirayama waved his hand dismissively, "None of them have showed a single inhuman attribute in the past eleven years. They are failures. Keep the best two, Ren and Jiryo I should think, for backup and get rid of the rest." 

He didn't wait for a reply before stepping towards the door that lead into the room, brushing aside a few other scientist and their protest as he reached for the door handle. 

"But sir! He's highly dangerous, especially in this state of mind!" He heard one of his colleges say. 

Hirayama ignored him and stepped into the room containing his hound, shutting the heavy door behind him, where it locked with a hiss and a click.


	2. Special Forces Recruits Time

_She was running across the dark train tracks, gun clenched tightly in her hand. The dry desert winds tore against her clothes, spraying dust and sand into her eyes. Still she ran and the faint sounds of dogs and men followed._

_Irina was certain she has lost them by the time she made it to the other side of the tracks. She turned back to look over her shoulder and there was a loud bang. White hot pain raced up and down her arm. It was enough to make her stop running. She hissed, her good hand instinctively reaching for her wounded arm. Irina looked up, and spotted him._

_The sniper._

_He stood on barrier on the other side of the train tracks. A mere silhouette against the moonlight. Irina saw him lower the sniper rifle in his hands. The train rushed pass, but just before it did, she caught a glimpse of the man's face as the train's headlights illuminated him and his surroundings._

_Pale blond hair tousled in the wind. A black trench coat over a dark suit. Ink black eyes and a familiar rare smile._

_Tadaomi._

_Only it couldn't possibly be him. The man that looked like her husband smiled. That harsh face and dark eyes was his, that smile was his. But she had never seen that smile look so kind, it was so unlike Tadaomi._

_The train rushed pass and he was gone without a trace._

* * *

Irina stood on her balcony, watching the streets below. The early-winter morning was freezing cold. The sky was a pale shade of grey, and the sun had been missing for days. At least it hadn't started snowing. She tilted her head upwards to look at the dull sky. She exhaled slowly and watched her breath create clouds of fog in the air. 

It had been five months since Iraq, but the memory of the sniper's face was still clear as day, constantly lingering in the back of her mind. She honestly didn't think she could forget it even if she wanted to. 

Who was he? 

Almost half a year later and she still hadn't found the answer to that question, not a real one anyway. After that time in Iraq, she hadn't crossed paths with him again. She was starting to think it had just been her imagination. 

"Irina?" She glanced over her shoulder and saw Tadaomi approaching her on silent feet. He leaned on the railings beside her, "It's cold, what are you doing out here?" He asked.

She glanced at him. For a moment she imagined pale blond locks replacing his ink black hair. Something must have shown on her face because he frowned, "What are you thinking about?" His asked, dark eyes concerned. 

Irina shoved the image aside, but looking at Tadaomi, it was hard not to picture the man that had shot her standing in his place. Nevertheless she gave him a faint smile, "It's nothing," she said. 

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "It's definitely something," he said, crossing his arms, "You've been acting... differently since Iraq." 

He had always been able to see right through her. She loved him for that but sometimes it was just a real pain. 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said, brushing past him and strolling indoors. Her husband followed her in with a scowl. He didn't let it drop. "Irina," she felt a hand on her arm, "What are you..." He trailed off and pressed his lips together, "Just talk to me." 

She eyed his hand on her arm and glanced up at his harsh face. She sighed, "It's really nothing," she said, gently sliding his hand off her arm, "I promise," she didn't let go of his hand, squeezing it a little, "I'm just a little worried about Natsuki that's all." 

It wasn't exactly a lie. 

Tadaomi didn't look even the slightest bit convinced. His dark eyes searched her face and his frowned deepened. Thankfully, he decided not to push it. He released her hand, "Natsuki's fine," he said, "Mikado-kun is with her."

Irina gave him at look, "How's that supposed to make things any better?" She asked, sitting down and crossing her legs, "It's his what? Third op? The kid's still a rookie."

That brought a rare smile to his lips, "They'll be alright," he said, sitting back down at his computer, "It's an easy job and those two know how to look out for one another." 

* * * 

It was an easy job they said, you wouldn't get caught they said. Never in Haru's entire life did he ever imagine he would one day end up robbing a convenience store in broad daylight. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And Haru was desperate for cash. 

Unsurprisingly he and Dai were caught right away. They had ran, but somehow they found themselves cornered in a narrow alley. Haru didn't even care about the money at the moment, all he wanted was to get away. Dai had taken a random kid as hostage, and right now the poor boy was the only thing that kept the two officer from taking them in. 

He glanced up at the said officers, a young man and a young woman. The two looked very young, they looked more like teenagers than actual adults, maybe only a year or two younger than Haru was. What on earth were teenagers doing playing cops? 

The young man wore rimless glasses and a sharp black suit with a single gold strike on his cuffs, and military insignia's on his collar. A lieutenant, by the looks of it. His hair was grey, streaked with white and silver, though his face was of a teenager's. He had the fiercest set of dark eyes Haru had ever seen. Those eyes were now fixed on him, and his lips were twisted into a scowl. 

His partner wore a similar military uniform, though Gary noted, instead of a single strike there were two around her wrists. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had ink black hair tied up in a high ponytail, and the most stunning turquoise eyes, that almost seem to glow with blue flames. 

A wolf's eyes. 

"Look, I'm only going to say this once," the woman drawled. Haru's eyes widened when she pulled out a knife, the blade glinting in the light, "Let the kid go." 

Dai did no such thing. Instead his grip on the boy tightened painfully. "Ow," the child whimpered. Haru couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him. 

"Or what?" Dai sneered. 

"Dai-san," Haru mumbled hesitantly, "Maybe we should do as they say," he said. 

Dai stared at him as if he were insane, "Shut up, you've always been a coward Haru," he snapped. Haru winced and backed off. Dai turned back to the woman, and smirked, "What's a pretty little thing like you going to do?" 

The woman smiled coyly, "Oh, I'm not going to do anything," she said, turning the blade in her hand, "Mikado," she commanded. The man, Mikado, smiled. 

It happened so fast. Blood, sprayed, and Dai yelled in pain and released the kid. He stumbled away, clutching his arm. Or what remained of it anyway. Haru's eyes widened in utter horror, as he spotted the man's severed hand on the ground. 

The kid screamed. 

Haru was too shocked to even speak much less move. He turned to the lieutenant, and saw two sets of strange, metallic tentacles sprouting from his white hair, lashing about, each one tipped with a wicked edge sharp as a knife. And his eyes, his fierce eyes were terrible, dark and angry.

Every instinct in him screamed for him run. But he couldn't move. 

What he hell was he? 

Dai was clutching his severed hand, mouth open in a silent scream. The kid was crying, scrambling to get away from all of them. But one of the lieutenant's tentacles shot out, wrapping around the boy's waist with surprising gentleness, careful not to impale him on the dagger like edge and pulled him towards them. 

"What are you?" Haru breathed, finally regaining control of his muscles and started backing away. He tripped over his own feet and landed beside Dai's severed hand. As comical as if would have been at any other time, that finally made him snap. He screamed and scrambled backwards, not even bothering to get up. 

"I'm... I'm what the military calls an asset," Mikado answered shrewdly, handing the crying kid over to the woman who made a face, but took the boy and made an effort to stop him crying. The lieutenant's tentacles retracted, vanishing entirely into his hair, "You're, Haru yes?" Haru nodded mutely, "You and your friend," he jerked his chin over at Dai, "Will have to come with us." 

"Like hell I will," Dai spat. 

Mikado's eyes flashed behind his glasses, but it was the woman who said, "Are you sure about that?" she handed the still crying kid over to Mikado, "You're coming with us either way, you can't either go willingly or in pieces," she smiled, those wolfish eyes gleamed in challenge, "I don't mind." 

Dai glared, but even he wasn't that foolish. Anyone with half a brain wouldn't mess with them any further. "Fine," he snapped. 

"Good boy," the woman purred, "There's a nice little interrogation room waiting for you back at HQ," she raised a hand to the comm in her ear, "We've got them sir, get your men over here." 

* * *

"Well that was... easier than I thought," Mikado said watching as the two men were hauled into the police car. He glanced beside him and was surprised to see that Natsuki had already left. 

Mikado glanced around and saw her retreating figure a few lengths away. "Oi!" Mikado jogged to catch up with her, "Hey, you forgot your coat," he said, holding up the brown trench coat. Natsuki grabbed the coat without so much as looking at him. 

Mikado raised an eyebrow, "Just can't wait to leave without me?" He asked with a grin. 

Natsuki ignored him and quickened her pace. His grin faded, "Natsuki..." He kept up easily, simply lengthening his strides, "You can't still be angry about that last op can you?" He asked. 

A glare from her told him that yes, she could in fact still remain angry at him. "Come on," Mikado said, boarding on whining, "That was almost a week ago!" 

Natsuki stopped walking so fast he nearly crashed into her. She whirled on him, and he smart enough to take a wary step back. "You nearly got yourself killed!" She snarled, "Again!" She started walking again and Mikado jogged to keep up, "Two ops," he heard her mutter under her breath, "And you nearly died in both of them," she glared at him, "And that's why we're stuck with these easy jobs."

Mikado frowned a little, "What's wrong with easy jobs?" He asked. 

Natsuki threw him a flat look, "Name another recruit who's stuck chasing down petty robbers." 

Mikado's eyebrows drew together, "But they're not petty robbers are they?" He asked, "I thought HQ had us to bring them in because they were under the suspicion of drug trafficking?" 

Natsuki let out a sound of frustration. She looked ready to strangle him. Mikado was just glad that she was at least talking to him again. "They could have asked any other person from the police bureu to do the job." She said, "We're supposed to be Special Forces recruits not local cops." 

Mikado chewed his lip. He could tell she was really pissed this time. "Look, how do I make this up to you?" He asked. 

Natsuki glared at him, "You can't," she said, "I almost lost you. This is like, what? The fourth time in half a year?" 

Mikado sighed, "You know how it is," he tried to reason, "If I haven't taken those risks, other people might have gotten hurt." Still, he really should just apologize. But what good would it be, since he wasn't even the slightest bit sorry for what he had done? If he had to do it all again, he would still have chosen to do the same without hesitation. 

"Fine!" Natsuki stormed away, "Get yourself killed for all I care." 

Mikado scowled and watched her leave. Perhaps a week still wasn't enough time for her to cool down. He sighed, glancing up at the grey sky. Deciding her would try talking to her again later, he wrapped his coat tighter around him and walking after her. 

He still had a couple of weeks before the second term of school started. That meant at least another op or two. 

He was certain he could make it up to her by then.


	3. Hisashi Time

Mikado took off his glassed and rubbed his eyes as he strolled into the Special Forces Department recruit's office. "Mikado-san," one of the older recruits greeted him, "You're alive!" 

He sounded so genuinely surprised, Mikado gave him a look, "Shou-san," he acknowledged. Shou smirked, "How was chasing thieves around town?" He asked pushing himself back from his table and spinning his chair around. 

"Could have been worse," Mikado replied, taking his seat at a table opposite Shou, "Why do you ask?" 

"Natsuki-san came back looking ready to murder," Shou said, pushing himself back to his desk, "Trouble in paradise?" He asked.

Mikado snorted, "It was never paradise to begin with," he muttered, "You know Natsuki." Shou grimaced, "True that," he acknowledged. Mikado's eyes found her empty table beside his, "Where is she anyway?" He asked. She couldn't have beaten him here that fast could she? 

Shou shrugged, "Left for home not two minutes ago, I'm surprised you didn't see her on your way in," he said, turning back to his computer, "It's late, the other four have already left. You should too." 

"What about you?" Mikado asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Shou shook his head, "The boss wants the report by today," he said, "In a sense you guys are lucky you don't have to work on the G.O.D. operation, the office is a mess right now, and its not just Special Forces." Shou eyed hm shrewdly, "But I'm guessing that's why Nasuki-san's angry?" 

Mikado scowled, packing up his things in a briefcase and standing up, "Bye, Shou-san," he said. Shou grinned, "It's day off tomorrow, want to go shooting with me and the guys?" 

"I'll pass," Mikado said, "I already made plans with my classmates." He was terrible at shooting anyway, "Maybe next time." 

Shou shrugged, "Suit yourself," he said, turning back to his computer. "Don't stay back too late," Mikado called, walking out the door. "Yeah, sure," Shou called back without looking up. Mikado grinned. 

* * *

He texted Natsuki on his way out. Unsurprisingly she didn't reply. Mikado sighed, deciding that talking to her face to face was the best option he made her way towards her place. He knocking on the door twice when he got there. 

Her mother answered the door, "Mikado?" Irina looked surprise that he was there. "What are you doing here?" 

"Irina-san," Mikado greeted, "Sorry to bother you, but can I have a word with Natsuki?" 

"Natsuki's not here," Irina said crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway, "She went out with those two girls, Akira and Hana, I thought you would be with them." 

Mikado's eyebrows shot up, "Oh, I see," he sighed, "That's alright then, I'll talk to her tomorrow." 

Irina frowned a little, "Is everything alright?" She asked, "How did the op go?"

Mikado smiled, "Everything's fine," he assured her, "The op went well, I'll have a full report by tomorrow." 

Irina nodded, turning back to walk inside, "Since you're here, come join us for dinner," she said. Mikado grimaced, "Thanks for the offer, but I promised my brother I'll be home today." 

Irina smiled, "I see," she said, "Very well, see you around Mikado. Say hi to Hayato for me."

Mikado grinned, "Will do," he promised. He bowed, "I'll take my leave then."

Mikado walked back towards the lift, feeling rather disappointed. She really didn't want to see him. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and entering the lift. She had never been angry for him this long, he didn't like it. 

Tomorrow. He would talk to her tomorrow. 

* * *

Natsuki ignored her phone as it buzzed again. She rolled her eyes and went back to typing the report on the last op. She was willing to bet that it was either Mikado or one of her classmates asking her whereabouts on his behalf. 

It was noon, and she was sitting inside a cafe near her school, a place she knew probably no one would find her, a half empty cup of tea and a laptop sat on her table beside the window. Her phone vibrated again and she scowled, picking it up. 

Sure enough it was Mikado. 

Natsuki muted her phone and turned back to her work. She wasn't as angry as she had been a week ago, but she couldn't bring herself of forgive him just yet. She wasn't sure if she could continue to put up with him if he just kept throwing himself into danger at every single chance he got. The ended her last sentence on the report, hitting the key with the full stop a little harder than it was necessary. 

He was way too impulsive. And thanks to his sheer recklessness the ministry had banned them from the G.O.D. op, which was ridiculous since they were their top recruits. Every free agent from Elite to Sepcial Forces was on the op, it was all they could talk about and Natsuki didn't blame them.

A rouge assassin had appeared nearly a month ago, seemingly out of nowhere and starting killing left, right and center. His kill count had hit thirty a week ago, and those were the ones recorded in Japan. His targets were everyone from random hitmen to wealthy political figureheads, even an occasional ex military personal would end up on his kill list. 

No one knew who he was. 

No one had seen his face. 

He had no other name besides the Third God of Death. 

He was the perfect assassin. 

They didn't even know if he was a he. The only thing they knew for certain about him was that he was just one man and not an organization. Thought it was hard to believe that a lone man to do the things he had done. 

Not a single one of his targets had survived to tell the world about him. He had been running circles around the minsitry for weeks, leaving the occasional clue that lead to nothing but dead ends. 

It almost as if he were taunting them. 

Natsuki glanced out of the window, and watched as the frost crept ever so slowly across the glass pane, wondering who or what exactly, this new God of Death was. 

Maybe it was a good thing they banned her partner from the operation. They had kept the details of the op from Mikado, which was a feat itself, since he was possibly the only person in the ministry who knew little to nothing about it. 

The thought of Mikado getting involved and possibly getting himself murdered made the colour drain from her face. Knowing him, if he knew just how many the assassin had already killed, he would have gotten himself involved with or without permission from the higher ups. 

It was just how he was. 

"Excuse me miss, but are you alright?" 

An unfamiliar male voice abruptly cut through her train of thoughts. Natsuki looked up and saw a young waiter with dark blond hair and tan skin, standing beside her table, notepad in his hand. His dark eyes were concerned, "You look pale." 

Natsuki offered him a half hearted smile, "I'm fine," she said, leaning back against her chair. 

The waiter didn't leave, "Can I get you anything?" He asked with a pleasant smile. 

Natsuki shook her head, "No. I'm fine," she repeated, privately wishing he would just go away. 

Almost as if he heard her thoughts the waiter smiled wryly, and sat down on the chair opposite her, "Alright, then would you like someone to talk to?" He grinned, "I've just finished my shift anyway." 

Natsuki eyed him warily, "I don't know you," she pointed out, her voice guarded. 

"Ah," the man scratched the back of his head, "My name's Hisashi Okami," he said with a smile, "I just moved to Tokyo about a week ago." He glanced at her, "And you are...?" 

Natsuki hesitated, "Karasuma Natsuki," she said figuring she had nothing to loose. 

"Natsuki-chan," Hisashi Okami repeated with a smile, "That's a beautiful name," he said. 

Natsuki couldn't help the heat that rose to her to her face. She raised an eyebrow, "And your name is wolf?" She asked bluntly.

Hisashi Okami smiled sheepishly, "Family name," he said, "It wasn't my choice. That's why I prefer Hisashi." That grin never once left his face. Natsuki gave him a long look. 

Hisashi Okami looked like an average person. He had an average height and built, bordering on the leaner side. He wore a light grey T-shirt and blue jeans. He looked like a college student, about a year or two older than her. 

He was handsome, but not enough to draw attention. His features were softer and more pleasant rather than rougish like Mikado's. His blond hair was messy and his dark eyes were kind - definitely unlike Mikado. He was the sort of person who Natsuki would walk pass on the street without thinking twice. The only eye catching thing about him was his unusual hair colouring.

Hisashi laced his fingers together, "So now that you know me, will you tell me what's troubling you?" He asked. 

Natsuki eyed him, "Why are you doing this?" She asked, "I'm just a stranger."

Hisashi shrugged, "It doesn't have to be that way," he said simply, "Besides," his eyes flicked up to met hers, "You look like you need a friend," rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced at her sheepishly, "Does that make sense?" 

Natsuki hesitated for a long moment. She really shouldn't, but Hisashi's eyes were gentle and his smile was kind. That was the thing about him, she realized, he had the kindest smile she had ever seen. 

Natsuki sighed and after another split second of hesitation, she began to talk. 

She told him about her troubles at work, about her problems with Mikado. Not in detail of course, she kept the stories vauge, as if they were problems any other teenager would have. Hisashi was easy to talk to. He was a good listener, and there was something about him and his twinkling dark eyes that put her at ease. 

"You know," Hisashi said, scratching his cheek with a finger, "If this Mikado guy is troubling you so much, you could just go out with me instead," he said with his good natured smile. 

Natsuki chuckled. She just knew this was bound to come up one way or another. "Sorry," she said, genuinely meaning it, "But Mikado would probably murder you if I did." If she hadn't met Mikado, she would have actually considered it. Hisashi was charming in his own simple way, and easy to be around. 

His smile faltered a little at her words but he sighed dramatically and shrugged, "Well, can't blame a guy for trying," he said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

He told her about himself too. He was from the country side; a small town a few hundred miles from Tokyo. He was a very, _very_ long way from home. He was here on a scholarship, in his first term of college and he was planning to be a teacher after he graduated. He came from a lower class background, hence the waiter gig. 

By the time they had finished talking, the sun was setting and the sky was darkening into a deep purplish hue. Realizing how late it was Natsuki stood up abruptly, "It's late. I should get going," she said. She glanced out the window.

How had she not noticed the time? 

Hisashi blinked in surprise and stood up as well. "I'll walk you home," he offered, "You never know what kind of people you meet on the streets around this time." 

Natsuki smirked. She was pretty sure she had no trouble dealing with those unlucky people. Not that Hisashi had to know that. Besides it was kind of sweet of him. So she simply shrugged, "Alright," she relented. 

They talked the entire way back. Natsuki never had a friend she could talk to so easily, unless you counted Mikado, which she didn't at the moment. In the world of professional assassins, friends were a liability. Yet, she found that it was nice to have someone to talk to. 

Before she knew it they had reached home. They were standing outside the entrance of the lobby, and Hisashi stared up the towering condominium, eyebrows high. "Woah," he said, "You live here?" The disbelief in his voice was apparent, "I thought you were kidding when you said you live in a penthouse..." he mumbled.

Natsuki frowned, "Well, my father's pretty high up in the Ministry of Defense," she muttered under her breath, "Didn't think he actually wanted the house." 

Hisashi's lips twitched into a small frown, "Your father... Wait..." Suspicion crept into Hisashi's tone. His eyes slid over to her, narrowing ever so slightly, "Your last name is Karasuma, your father doesn't happen to be the chief of the Ministry of Defense Karasuma is he?" 

Natsuki shrugged and Hisashi's jaw fell open almost comically, "Since when did he have a daughter?" He asked.

Natsuki chuckled at his bewildered expression, "The ministry keeps it under wraps," she said. 

"Wow," Hisashi staring at her, long enough to make her blush again. He abruptly seemed to realize he was staring and cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head, "Sorry," he said looking away, his cheeks stained pink, "I'm kind of a fan," he admitted, "When I was in the Air Force, he was something like a legend among us recruits." 

He glanced at her and grinned, "You know, at one point I was planning to join the Ministry of Defense." 

"Why didn't you?" She asked curiously. 

Hisashi shrugged, "I found out I preferred teaching recruits than going on ops," he smiled, "So I decided to become teacher instead." 

If he had joining the ministry, she would have probably met him at some point when they were younger. Natsuki paused, wondering if thing would have turned out differently if he had chosen to be a soldier instead of a teacher. She eyed his gentle smile and kind eyes. She couldn't help but think that should they have met, they would have been friends.

But she was also glad he had left the military path. She didn't want to see that gentle smile wiped away by the problems of the ministry or those bright eyes hardened by the years in the military. 

"Do you want to meet him?" She asked on impulse. 

Hisashi blinked, "Uh... What?" 

Natsuki raised an eyebrow, "You said you were a fan of my father. So do you want to meet him?" 

Hisashi's eyes widened, "Uh... Sure?" It sounded more like a question than an answer. 

Natsuki grinned, "Alright, come on then," she said, strolling into the lobby. 

"Wait, _now_?" Hisashi said in disbelief. 

Natsuki glanced over her shoulder, "Why not?" She asked. 

"Uh..." Hisashi rubbed the back of his neck, "I'm not sure this is a good idea, Natsuki-chan," he said, "We literally just met and..." He trailed off when he saw her smirk. 

"I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind," she said. 

She hadn't brought back a single boy home after Mikado. She wondered how her father would take it. If it riled him up all the better. But Hisashi didn't need to know that. 

Still, Hisashi hesitated. Natsuki sighed, "It'll be fine," she said truthfully. 

Hisashi chewed his lip, "Don't you think it send the wrong message?" He asked. 

Natsuki chuckled, "Don't worry about that, I'll tell them you're a friend." Which was true enough after all. 

Hisashi sighed, but his lips twitched into a wry grin, "I still don't think that's a good idea," he said, but he stepped into the lobby, "I'll just take a look and leave." 

Natsuki returned his smile, "Alright then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus: 
> 
> Hisashi Okami (狼 久史)  
> \- Hisashi means a long time ago and history  
> \- Okami means wolf (It's a pretty weird name to have in Japan)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) I'm gonna be updating much slower, probably once a week like a normal person.


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